Warning: SLASH. M/M relationship. If this is not what tickles your fancy, please leave.

Disclaimer: Holmesian Canon characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the BBC.

Beta-reader: Fabulous bbjkrss. Thanks for turning my dreadful writing into something much more readable, love. If you still catch some flaws, they're totally on me.

'Cause they're gonna murder me

They're gonna track me down

And even before I sleep

I crumble down

Murder - Coldplay

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All or Nothing

by Maye Malfter

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The light of dawn slipped through the curtain folds, drawing gentle shapes against the pale skin of the man who slept face down on the mattress, barely covered with a thin sheet. John, sitting with his back against the headboard, was watching him as if in a dream, not daring to look away, hardly daring to breathe. Perhaps, if he did not move, the truth would not strike him in the face like a hammer. Perhaps, if he remained still long enough, fate would forget about him and the man beside him.

He stretched one arm tentatively, just far enough to reach him. Ran a hand all the way around the other's back, barely brushing it with the tips of his fingers, determined not to wake him up. He did not want him to wake up, not yet. Not when awakening might bring about the end of this beautiful dream that John was living, where he and Sherlock were together, where everything was fine and no one would disrupt their happiness.

But the reality was different. They were together, it was true, but that was more a problem than a blessing, and John knew it. He knew it because Sherlock had shouted it at him just seconds before pinning him against the sitting room's wall to kiss him in a passionate way, almost needy; in the way John had wanted to kiss Sherlock for who knew how long. His lips tasting the detective's for the first time. Their bodies fitting perfectly. Their minds so synchronized that neither of them needed to say another word for the rest of the night.

However, the night was over, giving way to the day and the impending consequences of their actions. And John did not want to face them. He did not want to face a reality where it was probable that he would have to be separated from Sherlock again. He did not want to face a reality in which what had just happened between them was doomed to be forgotten in a filthy room of the younger man's mind palace. John refused to accept that what had just been born between him and Sherlock was fated to die in such an untimely way. Sherlock, his friend, his lover, could not back away from his side again. He would not allow it.

Sherlock sighed loudly, shifting in place with his eyes still closed. He was waking up, John knew him far too well not to notice. But the fact that he did not immediately open his eyes was a sign of something. Maybe, just maybe, Sherlock's mind and his own were sharing the same thought. The same sentiment.

Please, I don't want to wake up.

At last, Sherlock opened his eyes and stared at John, giving him a drowsy smile, making John's stomach feel funny. John smiled back, running his fingers along Sherlock's shoulder and reaching his hair, entangling them in those perfect curls and stroking from the bottom of the neck to the crown.

Sherlock's smile widened a little at John's caress, as he turned completely to face him, leaning one elbow on the bed in order to rest his head on his hand. With one smooth motion, Sherlock grabbed John by the waist and pulled him closer, pausing briefly to look into his eyes, and then placed a soft, tender kiss on his lips.

"Good morning," John managed to say when separated from the other's lips, raising a hand to stroke Sherlock's cheek.

"I hope it is a good one, indeed," Sherlock stated. The shadow of doubt hovered in the back of his eyes.

"Me too," John agreed, losing his smile. "Do you want to talk now?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

"It is useless to try to avoid the issue, as much as I wish I could do so at this precise moment."

"We could feign amnesia a little longer. Until after breakfast at least," John suggested. His blue eyes fixed on Sherlock's light ones.

"No," Sherlock refused. "I don't want to feign amnesia. That would mean pretending that I have forgotten everything that happened between us yesterday, and that's the last thing I want."

John could not help smiling at this very forthright declaration from Sherlock, a glimmer of hope settling inside his heart. Maybe, just maybe, he would not have to give up so soon to what he had been granted. But John did not deceive himself. He couldn't. And as soon as it appeared, the smile died on his lips.

"You'll say that you can't stay with me. That you have to leave till the danger passes. Until you find them and destroy them. Until it's safe to come back. Won't you?"

Sherlock went silent for a moment, looking at him intently, as if John could vanish at any moment. Then he spoke.

"I'm under threat, John. There's a price on my head," he explained once again, like the night before. "They don't know that I know. But that doesn't mean I can ignore them. They will kill me if I do. And they will kill you too if you are in the middle when they come after me."

"I don't care,"John replied with determination. He had thought about it while Sherlock was sleeping, and had decided when he kissed him moments ago.

"I do," Sherlock pleaded. "If you die because of me, I could never forgive myself."

"I'm not going to die," the doctor assured him. "Not yet, anyway."

"If you're with me, you could."

"If I'm not, I might as well be dead already," John stated, letting it out of his chest at last. "I won't let you go without me. I've lived enough years of my life without you, and I have no plans to do it again. It's too painful not to be by your side. Feeling incomplete, lost and miserable. I will not let you go, and I'm certainly not leaving you."

Sherlock seemed genuinely surprised by John's statement. In other circumstances, the doctor would have loved to have a camera on hand to capture the moment. After a brief instant, during which Sherlock seemed to be digesting what John had just said, the detective spoke again.

"John, I don't want anything bad happen to you," he said, with the most sincere expression the doctor had ever seen on him. "If you're with me they might kill you, and your life is worth far more than anything else in the world. If you die, I... If something were to happen to you I don't think I could take it."

Now John was the surprised one. He was aware that his life and safety meant rather much to Sherlock, but had never imagined how much. He placed his hand on Sherlock's neck and pulled the detective towards him, closing the gap between them. He kissed him slowly, almost worshiping him. He explored his mouth with vehemence, assuring him with that simple gesture that everything would be alright. A couple of minutes later they stopped for air, leaning their foreheads together.

"I won't let you go by yourself, and you know it. I can't lose you again. I can't. Not now that I have you completely, not now that you know you have me in your hands. We will face this together, whether you like it or not, because I love you, I want to be with you and above all things I can't let you go again! It's all or nothing with me, Sherlock. No going halfway. I'm not going to leave you and you can't do anything about it."

Sherlock smirked, breathing warmly near John's soft lips. John stared at him expectantly, trying to find the answers to all his questions inside those light eyes, but there was nothing to answer. This time was different. This time they were together and John would not allow him to move away. And Sherlock did not want to leave either.

Sherlock leaned a little closer to John and kissed him again, tasting his lips delicately, expressing all those feelings that were virtually impossible to explain through words. Each of his movements told John that everything was all right.

This time, Sherlock would not be alone even if he wanted to be. This time John would be at his side to support him, to accompany him and to deal with anyone who wanted to threaten or assassinate him. Because John Watson was unwilling to lose him again, and he would fight with all his might to protect what he had finally achieved, and the person he had achieved it with.

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Final Notes: My lovely beta told me this has some potential, maybe deepening into the death threat or the events before it. Do you feel the same way? Because I wrote it long ago inspired by the lyrics of Coldplay's song, but now that I'm re-reading it, well... Let's just say that some ideas are forming inside my twisted head. Let me know, okay? I'd be more than thankful if you share your opinions with me. Thanks for reading! X